When it hits, it hits you hard
by missninacullen
Summary: Rosalie Hale is a young actress frustrated with her life and boyfriend, The Superficial Idiot a.k.a Royce King. She swears she will leave him and never touch a man again...But could the new stunt guy McCarty just be the one to change her mind?
1. Chapter 1

**So here's another one-shot, this time about Rosalie... I hope you like it!**

**Stephenie Meyer is the goddess, and I am just playing with her characters.**

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I shove my foot to the gas pedal, furious, and the red Mercedes shoots forward like it was a NASCAR-race. From the rearview mirror I catch a glimpse of Royce in his ridiculously expensive underwear, running after me.

That bastard of a boyfriend. _My_ boyfriend. Ugh. Even the thought of the words "Royce" and "boyfriend" in the same sentence make me want to throw up the smoothie I just had for breakfast.

Just to clarify things, Royce King is the man, or poor distortion of a man, that I have been seeing for the past three years, more or less exclusively.

Alright, _alright_, seeing might not be the right expression to describe what we have going on. To be honest, we live together. Wait, no, I live _with him_. In _his_ house. His fucking huge-ass house with tennis courts and a miniature spa. Oh, and don't forget the movie theatre.

And he never gets tired of reminding me of the fact that it is _his_ house and I am just the parasite living off _his_ assets. Here comes the important question: Why am I still with him?

Well, it's something steady. Steady is good. Steady is having a place to go every night, an actual house instead of a crappy one-room apartment with paper-thin walls and a moldy bathroom. Having a man by my side at the dinner parties and premieres I have to attend to.

People take you more seriously when you are Rosalie Hale and Royce King from Beverly Glen than when you are just Rosalie Hale, the single girl from Silver Lake.

It used to not be like that. When Royce and I first met, he charmed me with his polite behavior, with the interest he showed in my life and getting to know me and my "beautiful soul" as he put it. I know, I know, that should've rang the bells. It was straight from a self-help title.

_How to lay a teenage girl - 10 easy ways_.

But Royce was handsome, witty, and a true gentleman. Note the word _was_. The last glimpse of the gentleman disappeared somewhere along the way around two years ago.

Nowadays, he's just plain asshole. That one word truly is enough to describe his whole personality.

Well, I was foolish then, when we met. Young, eager and confiding. It was three years and some months ago, at a charity dinner his old family friend Victoria Laurent was hosting.

Talking about Victoria, she is one of those women who don't actually do anything; she just lives her fabulous life filled with dinner parties and enjoys a few botox shots every now and then, in between her pedicures and margaritas. She was a model in her twenties, and succeeded in snatching herself a wealthy husband. James Laurent comes from a family with old money, and they have a prodigious mansion in Bel-Air.

And a penthouse in Manhattan.

And a "cosy little cabin" in Aspen.

And a villa in Saint-Tropez.

Okay, I might be a little jealous. Just a bit.

So, Royce was there as a friend, and I was there because Victoria just _adored_ my previous movie. It was a small supporting role I played, but big enough to catch her attention, apparently.

"Chérie, you were merrrrveilleux", she said with her faux French accent, which she always goes way overboard with. Victoria likes to tell people she is French, but I happen to know she is from New Rockford, Minnesota. That is my secret weapon. You know, just in case I ever need one against her.

Anyway, she invited me to the dinner alongside with Robert Stewart, the director and co-producer of the movie, and spent all evening introducing me to the wealthy businessmen and the sulky gold-diggers with unsuccesful nosejobs. I can't complain, I made many useful contacts that night.

And I met Royce. Good or bad thing, I don't know.

Maybe I would've succeeded on my own, maybe not. But I didn't want to take the chance to find myself still living in my tiny apartment in Silver Lake at the age of thirty-five, an old maid with roles in class b movies that wouldn't pay enough to cover my rent. So I went along with Royce.

He is a few years my senior, and at the time I was only nineteen, so he had the experience I wanted, and I had the body he wanted. I was a fine doll to show around, he was my key to success.

Needless to say, the success is yet to come, but everything else I have gotten.

Regular appearance in the worst gossip magazines including _People_ and _Star_, a few offers to pose in _Playboy_, and the abusive boyfriend. Who, by the way, is also a full-time alcoholic and has an ego bigger than Texas.

Yes, I was in love with him once, or the man I thought he was, but no more. And I am going to leave him. I really am.

It's just that right now I have no place to go, and I enjoy sleeping in Royce's massive bed, even if it means sleeping with him. I enjoy having a maid, and a cook. I enjoy being able to go to the gym whenever I feel like it. In the middle of the night, even.

Sounds perfect, right? Yeah, if it just wasn't for Royce. He fights about anything and everything, drinks almost every night and then gets… A little aggressive.

This morning he came to the kitchen, reeking of old booze, and started bitching about me being too loud when I was getting up. That started an enormous row, as usual, and in the end he was yelling at me about my choice of shampoo, because apparently he doesn't like the smell of apples in the morning.

That was when I left, and he followed me all the way to the front door, calling me with all the insulting names his little brain could come up with.

So I took his Mercedes and here I am now, on my way to the studio. We are shooting every day now, and they need me on the set nearly twenty hours a day. I'm really hoping it will be worth all the time I'm putting in, hoping this will be the movie to give me a name, so I can leave the imbecile and he can do with his life what he does best.

Which means, ruining it.

And I will be single. A fabulous, wanted single woman. Not a girl, a woman. Rosalie Hale, gorgeous and independent. I'm not going to depend on any pathetic asshole ever again, not going to be with another Royce, not going to…

"Shit!"

I slam the breaks on and come to a halt three inches from the brand new Corvette in front of me. Red lights. Again. This happened yesterday too, I was too pissed at Royce and too busy planning his death in my mind to notice. I take a deep breath.

_Forget about Royce. Don't think about him. Think about the speech you are going to give when you accept your Oscar for best actress. Don't think about Royce._

_-.-  
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I pull up in front of the studio, healthy and alive, with no more incidents threatening to destroy someone's new car. Or someone's life, for that matter. I see my co-actor Jacob Black grabbing the doorknob, then turning around to face me, a huge grin spreading across his face.

I wave at him and hope for him to disappear. Jacob is five years younger than me and very eager to please me. Too eager. He is one of those kids who have been in the public eye since day one. He was born for Sarah and Billy Black, who were praised to be the happiest couple in Hollywood. That was, before Sarah died in a tragic accident a few years back.

Jacob posed in all the gossip magazines when he was only weeks old, and hasn't missed an issue since. From playing a baby in soap operas to now being my co-star. In my opinion, they should have picked someone older. Though I have to admit, Jacob looks twenty-five, not eighteen. Still. I'd rather work with someone who has graduated high school.

"Rosie, long day ahead. Prepared?" He chuckles as I step out of my car. No, not mine. _Royce's_ car. Stupid Royce. Stupid Jacob. I glare at Jacob and mumble something under my breath.

"Okay, no worries. I won't bother you anymore", Jacob holds his hands up in the air. I sigh. I know I should not direct my frustration with Royce towards Jacob, but he is there, annoying as hell. And I hate him calling me Rosie. He thinks we are best friends of some sort, and even my visible hatred at times is left unnoticed.

"Sorry, Jacob. Just some tension in the air." I decide to play it calm today. If I let Jacob get on my nerves at 6 am, there is no way I will be able to prevent myself from strangling him by afternoon.

"Know the feeling... And hey, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jake?" He grins widely and holds the door open for me.

"Thanks."

I force a tight smile and step inside the cool building, Jacob following close behind. I don't bother answering his question. I don't want him calling me Rosie, I'm not going to call him Jake. Piece of cake.

Jacob continues to babble on about something, but I'm not paying attention. I want to turn around and snap at him to shut up, but control myself. _He is not Royce, Rosalie,_ I remind myself, _you can't hate all men because one of them is a total dick_.

But oh, so many of them are. Royce is just the top of the iceberg.

"Here comes our star! Morning, sunshine", the assisting director Mike Newton comes to me, kissing me on both cheeks and taking my hand. I feel instant irritation. Mike Newton is young, stupid and slimy. He is million times worse than Jacob Black, for he thinks himself as the ultimate Greek god and is, for some incomprehensible reason, convinced that I have the hots for him.

Truth to be said, he disgusts the crap out of me. But, once again, I have to control myself. I have too much on stake. I'm not going to let Mike Newton ruin it all for me, so I nod at him and flash a quick sort-of-smile.

"Morning, Mike." I see our head director Carlisle Cullen appear on top of the staircase a few feet away, and prepare for a day full of work, work and, surprise, work. "Rose, Jake. Let's move it", he orders. Jacob snorts and I roll my eyes. Carlisle pretends to be a hard-working director, but he's got as much authority as the goldfish Royce has at home. He is too much of a friend to really be our boss.

Nevertheless, we obey, climbing up the stairs. Jessica Stanley, my make-up artist, gives me an encouraging smile and starts gossiping about Mike Newton while she applies the warpaint on me.

Well, anything to keep my thoughts off Royce. Even her crush on Slimy Newton will do.

-.-

"Let's take a break", Carlisle declares. I could hug him for that. We have been shooting for eight hours straight, and I would gladly even look at Royce for a change. It gets a bit on my nerves to stare Jacob romantically in the eyes, and then kiss him passionately for two minutes.

For three thousand times in a row.

Jacob couldn't be happier, though. He seems to be enjoying every second of the scene, and I have never seen Slimy Newton look so jealous before. Being beautiful surely has it's downsides.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and go sit down next to Alice Brandon, the girl playing my best friend. Alice is tiny, black-haired, very cute, gets excited about anything in a matter of seconds and talks non-stop, but I like her.

She is honest, completely herself, and is neither scared nor jealous of me. We made friends when the filming started, which I am happy of, because I have never been one to have very many of them. Alice's gossip and confiding on me was nerve-wrecking at first, for I have always been the one to talk. And everyone else has been listening. But now I have gotten used to it. In a way, it even makes me feel good, just listening to someone who talks about normal things.

She makes _me _feel normal. Alice does not worship me as if I was the queen, instead, she keeps my feet on the ground.

"Cullen surely likes to enslave us, huh?" She chirps, sipping her orange juice and giggles then. "You probably have had enough of kissing for the next few decades."

"Tell me about it", I roll my eyes. Alice leans over the table, looking around as if to check there's no one around to listen.

"Have you seen the new stunt guys?" She whispers. I raise one eyebrow. Alice and men, an equation that I haven't been able to solve, no matter how hard I've tried. She loves each and every creature of the opposite sex, plays games until the guy is all over her, and then moves on to the next one. She never gets past the flirting point.

Not even when the most gorgeous men of Los Angeles are courting her with diamonds and pearls. As soon as she gets their attention she cracks into her babbling laughter and winks to the next in line.

"Flavor of the week?" I guess. Alice shakes her head dramatically.

"You should see those men. I mean, _wow._ I'm talking about hot stuff here", she says, her voice dead serious, "and I only saw them from distance." I throw my head back in laughter.

"That good?"

"Better."

"Sounds like I need to check the supply", I say, half-jokingly, though I have to admit that I am curious to see what gets Alice so out of her character.

_Not that I really care. I don't need any more men interfering my life._

"You do. Wanna go now?" She suggests, a mischievous grin on her face. I don't want to know what's on her mind, but I can tell, she's up to no good.

"Why not", I shrug, and we get up from our chairs.

"There you two are!" Newton's voice echoes from the doorway, and I want to cry. Will he ever leave me alone?

"I've been looking for you everywhere", he continues, and steps forward with some people following him. "Guys, let me introduce you to the better half of our cast. Rosalie Hale, Alice Brandon. Rose, Al, these guys will be here to do the dangerous shit Jake can't handle." He laughs as if he just made the joke of the year.

And then he moves out of the way, exposing two men. I suppress a gasp and see Alice clench her fists together. She looks like her eyes are about to fall out of their sockets, and I don't need a mirror to know that I am the picture of her.

Two perfectly featured faces.

Two perfect, _perfect _bodies.

Without a doubt, two of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen in my life.

"Holy fuck", I whisper, hardly audibly.

"I told you", Alice hisses under her breath. I nod inconspicuously.

Newton is wearing an awkward smile on his face, giving us a weird look. He clears his throat, and I correct my posture, put a smile on my face and glance at Alice, only to see her do the same.

"Jasper Whitlock."

I hear the voice of an angel, as one of the men steps forward. Jasper has honey-colored hair, a composed expression on his face, and a deep, calming voice. Alice gulps audibly, and I feel like wishing Jasper good luck. Alice clearly has found her next boy toy, and I feel bad for him already. As he turns to Alice, I see pure admiration in his eyes.

_Here we go again..._

I don't have time to think about it more, as I turn to the other man and open my mouth to introduce myself, but no voice comes out.

_Sex-on-legs._

I see a row of pearly white teeth and a pair of lusciuos lips, curved to an amused smile. I see a strong man, taller than the Jasper-whatever, and more muscular, too. His brown hair is curling above a pair of playfully twinkling eyes.

"Hi, I'm Emmett."

My breath hitches, and I extend my shaking hand forward. He punches it slightly and grins widely.

Did I just say I don't want any men interfering my life? I might just need to change my mind about that.

"Rosalie", I say, and keep my voice steady, though my insides are dancing wild jitterbug.

_I want this man._

And as that thought strucks me, I lick my lips and smile him seductively.

_I _need _this man._

He answers my smile, and I want to rip his clothes off right then and there. I haven't felt like this in a long, long time.

For the past two years, every man I have met, I have automatically disliked. For Chrissake, I even met Tom Cruise, and my heart did not jump one bit. And then there comes this man, out of nowhere, and I feel like jumping on him and having wild, passionate sex like some crazy nymphomaniac.

I know I want that, and yet I feel more than just physical attraction. I see myself strolling on Rodeo Drive with this man, laughing and making jokes. I see myself having dinner with him at a fine restaurant, sharing intimate glances over a bottle of wine.

I feel...

Interest. Both physical and mental. His laugh makes me want to laugh. His eyes make me want to stare into them for hours and hours. Yeah, yeah, _alright_, no denying the obvious; his lips are just begging to be kissed. His... Okay. I won't go into details.

All this goes through my mind, over and over again, in a time period less than two seconds.

"Pleased to meet you, miss", Emmett winks, putting a stop to my daydreaming. I flash him the widest grin anyone's seen on my face in ages. Trust me, it's been a while. Royce is not exactly the kind of man who puts a smile on your face on everyday life. "Care to show me around?" He continues. My heart is about to pop out of my chest.

"Well, why not." I raise one eyebrow at him, wishing with all my heart he had been casted as my co-actor instead of Jacob. I wouldn't mind filming those love scenes with him, in fact, I would do my worst every time just to get to reshoot them. Except that there is one tiny problem; he is not an actor.

He is a stunt man.

I am falling hard for a man who jumps hills on motorcycles and gets blown up in the air for fun.

I have officially gone nuts.

So I let Emmett McCarty, a complete stranger, take my hand in his, crack up in laughter as Slimy Newton turns to the deepest shade of green, lead our way out from the studio and wish Royce King-of-the-assholes a happy-ever-after in that miserable life of his.

For I won't be setting a foot in his precious rathole ever again. From now on, it will just be my stunt man and I.

Because, you know, sometimes you can just tell when it hits you.

This one I know for sure.

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**I love each and every one of you who took their time to read this. Reviews make my day... So please. Just click the review button, write something... Anything, and I will be ever thankful.  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I know this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I felt like continuing their story, so here it goes... I don't know if I will write more about them, but I just wanted a chapter to show what happened afterwards. I really hope you like it!**

**I don't own Twilight or the characters; the amazing Mrs. Meyer does. She's the best.  
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"Rosalie, love, could you come help me with this bookshelf?"

I run to him as fast as my feet will move, not bothering to answer. Instead I jump on him, full force, and lock our lips together to a passionate kiss.

"I take that as a yes?" He chuckles.

"Mm-hmm."

"You know, that's somehow distractive, seeing as I'm trying to put up a bookshelf here", my very own Bob the Builder makes a hopeless attempt at complaining.

"Good thing you didn't pursue acting… You would never succeed", I tease him, still not letting go. He flips me around in his arms, bringing his lips an inch away from mine, and putting on a disapproving expression. "You need some discipline, missy. That's no way to talk to your prince in disguise."

I let out an ear-piercing shriek as he jumps down a flight of stairs, still carrying me in his arms. He kicks open the bedroom door and throws me on the bed, ripping open my button-down shirt as I giggle like a smitten teenage girl.

He brings out the worst in me.

-.-

Emmett and I have been going out for five months now. I know, it doesn't sound like that long of a time, seeing that we already live together, but it just felt so right, from the moment I first saw him. Sounds like such a cliché, but it's true.

He gave me the courage to pack my bags and leave Royce.

He gave me the strength to finish the movie we were shooting, even though I had no place to officially call my home.

And in these past months, he has been the one to show me what happiness is. What love is. How a relationship is supposed to be.

I never had any real experience on relationships before Royce, so I always thought that was kind of how it was supposed to be. I settled for what I had, and it never struck my mind that there might be something better. That there might be another reason for being with somebody than just money and status.

That there are actually couples who love each other to the world's end.

But Emmett has completely turned my world. I feel like I live in a different universe, a different life, and it's all because of him. Every day he puts up with my mood swings, with my terrible behaviour and my countless personal problems resulted from the years spent with Royce.

And still, every single day he makes me feel wanted, needed.

Loved.

I often find myself walking around with a stupid smile plastered on my face; at home, on the streets outside, at work. Everywhere.

Not even Slimy Newton's drunken kisses at the premiere afterparty last week could sweep that smile off. You know, I just laughed at him and told him to go find Jessica. Which he actually did, to her delight. And then Jacob Black came to me, I gave him a hug and treated him like a brother long lost.

Emmett has seriously performed some sort of strange magic on me.

I don't feel the need to prove everyone that I can do things. I don't need to be a bitch to everyone around me to get things my way, and I don't have to keep up a shield to protect myself… Which I didn't even realize I was doing until Emmett took me in his strong arms and told me there was no need to be scared.

That he would be there for me no matter what and take me with my flaws.

I don't even feel like I am Rosalie Hale anymore. I feel happy.

Happy is weird. It's like being on drugs all the time, floating around blissfully. But one thing I can not deny.

Happy is good.

Happy is what I was missing all along.

-.-

When Emmett and I met the first time, it took one look into his brown eyes and I knew. I knew he had the certain something that I needed.

Two weeks, five official dates and more than a million breathtaking kisses later Emmett rented a big truck and I scraped together my belongings at Royce's, watching aside with Alice as Emmett and Jasper loaded it all in the truck. Royce was out with his assholey golf buddies, and I just left him a note.

_Goodbye._

One word. That was all I had left to say after four years of pure self-loath towards myself, pure hatred towards him. Goodbye.

Goodbye Royce, goodbye all your booze, goodbye lousy sex, goodbye bruises all over my body. Most of all, goodbye the life that I will not miss. Goodbye darkness.

Alice and Jasper looked like they were madly in love, and as they held hands and kissed in the open, I felt a pang of jealousy hit me. I knew that Emmett was into me. I knew that I was more than just into him – he made my heart beat faster than was healthy, but still, I did not think we would last.

I had a negative attitude towards all men and relationships, and I had no idea what the next move would be with Emmett. He made it easy for me, though. After loitering at Alice's for a month, with half of my stuff there, half in storage, Emmett invited me to spend a weekend with him.

We stayed at his apartment, and I never went back for a night at Alice's. We didn't really talk about it, but when I woke up Sunday morning, there was a single yellow rose on the pillow next to me. I took the rose, set it on the bedside table and nuzzled Emmett's pillow. It smelled like his cologne, my new favorite smell in the world. It smelled fresh and promising.

A new start.

I cuddled with the big blanket until Emmett showed up. He lifted me up from the bed, taking me to the living room. I saw boxes scattered everywhere, with a path cleared around them, leading to the kitchen.

"I made some coffee for you, Rosepetal. It's in the kitchen"_, _Emmett said. He has taken on calling me his own Rosepetal, and I don't mind. It is something between us, a name only he uses. It makes me feel special. It's personal. I am not baby, I am not darling, not honey. I am his Rosepetal. So I gave him a quick peck, wondering what all the boxes had in them.

Emmett wore a weird expression, somehow wary, yet happy. Anxious, even. I made my way to the kitchen, Emmett following close behind. There was a plate on the table with strawberry pancakes on it, a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice.

There was another yellow rose next to the setting, with a tiny envelope under it. I glanced at Emmett, but he was quiet, just giving me a little nod, confirming. I opened the envelope, sliding a white card from it. It was plain, with just one line of text written in the middle.

_Move in with me?_

I let out a wild shriek, losing all self-control, and jumped on Emmett, who cracked up in laughter.

"Will you, love?"

I looked at him in his beautiful eyes, grinning widely. I just nodded, enthusiastically, because I could not find my voice.

Emmett asked me to move in with him.

_Emmett _asked me to move in with him.

Emmett asked _me_ to move in _WITH HIM!_

He twirled me around and then sat me in the chair.

"Don't let your pancakes get cold, Rosepetal. Oh, and by the way… I left the dishes for you, since you are now the woman in the house." He grinned playfully, and I got up, punching him in the arm. Emmett took off, me running after him, with his girlish screams filling the apartment. I caught him in the living room, jumping on his back.

We both fell on the floor, giggling hysterically, him tickling me, until suddenly his expression changed more serious. He stopped the tickling, and I gulped as he caressed the side of my face with his fingers, running them through my hair. His voice was husky, as he said the words I had been dreaming of hearing from him.

"I love you, Rosalie Hale."

We ended up making love in the middle of the scattered boxes, strawberry pancakes long forgotten.

-.-

Emmett's apartment was not excruciatingly small, but too small for the two of us, and after tolerating it for a month or so, we decided we wanted more room. He had some money on stocks, and I had my own savings, so we decided to sell the bachelor pad and get a larger one. It was not easy, trying to find one that suited us both, with a big enough closet for me, and a livingroom fit for a huge screen to watch football on (that was Emmett's requirement).

We found our perfect condo, eventually, in Venice Beach. It wasn't where we were looking for, but a close friend of Emmett's works in the real estate business, and after he heard of us looking for a place, he presented us with our dream condominium. It has a beautiful beach view, and it's on the top floor of the building.

The living room has huge windows on two different walls, making it light and spacious, and my walk-in closet is… Well, let's just say that after Alice saw it, she was ready to kill me and marry Emmett.

We have been living there for a month or so now, and I have already grown to love Venice. I love the slightly bohemian way of living, and I enjoy nothing more than the early morning walks on the beach, and the late night secret meetings we have in the quiet parts. I thought that after living in Royce's superb Beverly Glen residence I would not exactly thrive in a four-room Venice Beach condo, but the simplicity of it is what I love.

And I have to say, I never really felt comfortable sneaking to the kithcen in the morning at Royce's, clad in just a tiny nightdress, when I usually passed at least three strangers on the way there. Some sort of cleaning ladies, pool boys, milk men or whatever. Royce's workforce constists of more people than my extended family.

Well, here I don't have that problem. I can run around the house naked if I feel like it, without having to live in fear of running into a stranger. The only thing I might run into is Emmett, and he certainly does not mind it the slightest, let me tell you.

For all I know, he would probably never wear clothes again if it was up to him… I don't know if other couples do that, but we surely enjoy our way of living and make the most of it.

And I never thought I'd prefer chinese takeout over a filet mignon.

Well, what can you say.

Love makes you do strange things.

-.-

For example, love makes you sing karaoke… Alright, that was not completely honest. Love and a fine amount of beer make you sing karaoke, that was proven when we had a night out with Alice and Jasper around two weeks ago.

We had decided on just enjoying the night, having Italian for dinner, nothing fancy, and then continuing to a pub nearby. Well, Emmett and Jasper had their fair share of beer, while Alice and I enjoyed our Cosmopolitans. The difference was, we did it the civilized way – the guys totally did not. Too much beer made Emmett get all mushy, and he was continuously declaring his undying love for me… Which eventually led to him singing for me.

There was karaoke that night, which, I swear, we did not know of before we chose _that _pub. Well, after quite a few pints, Emmett went to put his name on the list, and I almost spat my beloved Cosmopolitan out on the bar counter when the DJ declared that Emmett McCarty would be up next.

Emmett was wearing a stupid, drunken grin on his face and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. The pub was full, and everyone was cheering at him… And cracking up in laughter after they realized that this huge guy was going all lovey-dovey by singing…

Oh my god, I can't even say it.

Okay, he was singing…

Oh lord...

Celine Dion.

_The power of love_ by Celine Dion.

Except that he changed the lyrics; instead of singing _I'm your lady, and you are my man, _he was chanting _You're my lady, and I am your man_, and in the second chorus he forgot about that, so it was _I'm your baby, and you are my man. _Needless to say, that got the whole crowd rolling over with laughter, and me swearing never to go drinking with him again. After that he stumbled over to me, crushing me into a hug, and whispering into my ear how much he loved me.

"Rosepetal, you are so fucking perfect. You are the most wonderful woman I've ever met… I love you so much. You are the stars that light up my night sky... No, you are my sunshine..."

I just rolled my eyes at him, as he mumbled on, listing the different elements of nature I was to him. Until he said one last thing before kissing me.

"I promise you I won't do that at our wedding if it embarrasses you."

-.-

He hasn't brought it up since, but that one time was enough to get me thinking. Do I love Emmett? With all my heart. Do I want to marry him? Hell yes. But I don't know if it was just drunk talking, or if he was serious about it.

Does Emmett want to marry me? Am I just a period of fun in his life? I know, I know, he keeps telling me I am the one and he loves me… But I can't be confirmed that easily. I spent more than three years in a shitty relationship, if you can even call it a relationship, and it left me prejudiced.

Emmett has done nothing to make me doubt the depth of his feelings, but I remember Royce keeping up his façade for quite a while. No, don't take it the wrong way, I am definitely not suspecting that Emmett is a con, but I can't help my thoughts. I can't help being cautious, because, what if he turns out to be a total fuck?

I have some hardcore trust issues, and they are not easy to overcome. But I'm trying. Constantly. And Emmett is being so understanding, he really is. Even so much that one beautiful day he offered to go beat Royce, and it took all my begging and three blow jobs to keep him away from there. Not that I don't want Royce to be beaten, no, that's an awfully great idea, but I don't want Emmett to get in trouble.

I don't want him to get any assault and battery charges; I'd rather just forget all about the life before him, and start blank. It's not easy, but I know we can do it.

-.-

I give Emmett one last kiss before he gets up from the bed, slapping my butt playfully.

"Now, if you are fully satisfied, I'd be glad to actually get some help with the bookshelf", he smirks and I flash him a smile. Emmett puts on his old, paint-stained jeans, and starts looking for his shirt on the floor.

"Bear, you look so sexy without your shirt on", I murmur in his ear, and he raises one eyebrow at me, amused. "You are insatiable, petal, but I really need to get working on the furniture, or this will never be a home."

I stroke his back with my fingernails, and he groans slowly.

"Rosie…"

"What, bear?" I purr, moving my hand downwards, playing with the back of his jeans. "We don't need the bookshelf put up today…" I whisper, and kiss him slowly.

"I." I open the top button of his jeans.

"Vote." I open the second one.

"For a lazy day." I open the last two buttons, and let his jeans drop to the floor.

"You know I can't deny anything from you… You are using me", Emmett objects weakly, but I know he is defeated. I plant soft kisses down his jawline, and his arms lock around me.

"Rosepetal, you are the sexiest thing alive." He gently lifts me up, setting me on the office table, which so far has served every other purpose but the one it's actually made for. I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer.

"You are not too bad yourself, McCarty." I nibble his ear. I know what this will lead to. Yes, you think you know too, huh?

Naw, we will not have sex.

We will make love passionately, fuck like animals, screw till we faint, whatever, for the next twelve hours straight, because that's how we roll.

I mean, who needs a bookshelf anyway?

* * *

**There you go... Liked it, hated it? Good, bad? Please review and I will love you forever :))**


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